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How To Be Happy.

To be happy shop at Salvation Army. Buy items that spark nostalgia, that make you think childhood, not-so-bad, where did I lose my dachshund? Her name was Jone. Anyway, whatever item you purchase, take it immediately home, fill it with red wine, and get drunk.



To be happy hide Woody Allen movies around your house. You will find them later after you forget. This will quiver a thousand wings of your serotonin, a little pop and glow of bees humming. Be sure to hide only the older good movies, not the newer shitty ones. Hide them beneath your pile of jeans in the closet. Hide them behind the toilet. Hide them in that top drawer where you keep your grass, those old emails you printed off for evidence, and all of your secret codes.

Note: Martone writes about how the president and secret service call the briefcase with the nuclear launch codes “the football.”

Obama: “Oh fuck, man. Iran just launched a missile at Israel. Go get me The Football.”

Secret Service dude: “No problem, sir.”

(It is always always “no problem.” A guy has a full time job to carry The Football in proximity to the president.)


One of my favorite pics.


To be happy drugs.

(just kidding, children!)

[just kidding]

{drugs are shucked off sugar}

caffeine, Tylenol, bananas…


To be happy read Mary Miller’s Big World. It made me happy. I will review it soon on this bad-ass blog. I will fling myself half-naked down onto the snow. I will.


To be happy vitamin bolus. Do you have any middle to upper class relatives who are elderly? If so, visit their house. Right above the stove or sink is a cabinet. Open it. There are many vitamins and supplements and aspirins. Take one of each, every single pill or capsule. Fill your hand, and then down them all with a glass of cold tap water. Make sure you tell your relatives you are going to take one of every thing in the cabinet. They will find you odd, but happy people are always seen as odd. Don’t be sneaky, just tell them. Secret happiness can have a tinge of sadness, so try not to be counterproductive here.

Right after doing this, for at least three minutes, you will be happy.


It is possible that personal happiness is not the answer to the short time we have together. Not the answer worth striving for. Something to think on.


Accidentally dropped nuclear weapons from aircraft are called “Broken Arrows” by the U.S. government. Many times we never learn of these instances but we do know of Atlantic City, New Jersey (1957); Savannah, Georgia (1958); Goldsboro, North Carolina (1961); and many instances of armed nuclear weapons dropped at sea.

Here is a sobering example.


To be happy the studies say experience always trumps possessions. Sex will be better than a remarkably skinny TV set. Downhill skiing better than leather bedsheets. A trip to Rome over can of Spam. But why are these ideas mutually exclusive?

What if I buy a shotgun and a camo catsuit? That’s a product. But then I go shoot the shotgun into the air while wearing my camo catsuit. That’s an experience. Blending both like a beer poured into glass of Merlot. Like mixing rattle and canopy, like that. Now I feel happy.



To be happy I don’t know. I miss Joan.


To be happy get on the internet. The socialization will cattle-tromp your dopamine to new and higher levels. What you do on the internet is up to you. I certainly won’t judge. I can suggest things:

Read this thoughtful essay by Jimmy Chen on Shelf Life Magazine.

Read stuff about Jesus. Here is one by Molly Gaudry at Hobart. It is fucking awesome.

Read a Catherine Meng poem at Fence.

If none of this is slaying your dragon, you might have the wrong blog. But no worries. There are other blogs out there. I think there are.


Eleven American nuclear warheads are thought to be lost and unrecovered, primarily in submarine accidents.


To be happy give away things. I bought several copies of Mary Miller’s Big World today and I will give them away soon. It will make you blee, or even blee blue. Like that.


To be happy throw things. I like to throw apples into large walnut trees. I must have thrown at least 400 apples into walnut trees last spring. It was fantastic. Once in Tuscaloosa, Alabama I threw a coffee table into a wall. Very happy feelings, an acetylcholine clatter. These big drywall wounds in the shape of archipelagos. One of my friends is big into throwing parties. He seems happy enough.


To be happy plan things into the future. Have something waiting out there for you. Example. All of you who rocked AWP Chicago like it was a cat made of Velcro and diamonds, think about AWP Denver. I used to live in Denver. I will take you to amazing nachos. You are invited to eat nachos in a nacho town with a nacho expert. Put it on your calendar. Now you are happy.



“If only I had known, I should have become a watchmaker.”

–Albert E